Let's Not Talk About It
by fanficxo
Summary: Five times they kissed but never spoke about it, and one time they did. Set after The Hounds of Baskerville and before The Reichenbach Fall. Johnlock Slash. Waring for some strong language.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK

* * *

The first kiss was desperate. It was after a particularly long and complex case, and Sherlock and John had just gotten in at eleven at night. Being their irritable selves, because John and Sherlock had just spent the last 48 hours awake, John snapped when he saw the experiment. It was a mixture of chemicals, which had produced this, _product_, that had over flown onto the table, leaving a dangerous looking foam to eat through the wood.

'I've told you before, don't leave your experiments unattended!'

'But it was an ex-'

'I _swear_ if you say experiment I will punch you'

'But John, you've got to _understand_-'

'Oh I_ understand_ alright; this is you! Trying to wind me up! What social experiment is it this time?!' Then John emphasized his argument by poking Sherlock's shoulder sternly.

'No, this is you over reacting!' Sherlock said relatively calmly, but still prodded John in the shoulder sharply.

Having nothing else really to say, John pushed him back strong enough to step back a couple of steps. Sherlock seemed to blank out for a second, very like he does when he's processing important information. He certainly wasn't expecting that.

Then Sherlock grabbed Johns shoulders and pushed him into the fridge. The tension was rising, months and months of sexual tension and other peoples comments and presumptions had finally gotten to them.

Their faces were close. Just a gentle push and their lips would meet. And that's exactly what they did.

Their mouths met in a blur of fury, John's hands tangled in Sherlock's clumsy curls, and Sherlock wrapped both of his arms tightly around John's waist. Sherlock's tongue was demanding and dominant, and John was happy for him to take the lead. It was immediately an open mouthed kiss, not wanting to waste time with delicacy. Johns hands moved downwards, onto Sherlock's neck, clutching him close, scared he would pull away. Sherlock still had a strong hold on John's narrow waist.

Sherlock maneuvered John into the living room by twisting his body and pushing him backwards. John's hands worked at both of their shirt buttons, and Sherlock put all his concentration in to kissing John within an inch of his life. John could not get enough of Sherlock's mouth, his soft and springy lips and his incredibly skilled tongue. When they were at the sofa, the back of John's legs hit the edge, causing him to collapse onto the sofa. Their lips lost contact for just a moment, then John was back to kissing Sherlock like it was air.

Sherlock straddled John and kissed him, then slowly and steadily moved his concentration down onto John's jaw, and then neck, leaving scattered love bites exposed.

'Sher-sherlock' John moaned as Sherlock's hand drifted downwards.

They were both _obviously_ aroused. Sherlock started to undo John's trousers.

'Boys?!'

Mrs _fucking_ Hudson.

They pulled apart quickly put unwillingly. Sherlock estimated it would be seven seconds before she opened the door. John was quickly fastening his buttons, and Sherlock was doing up his belt, realizing he didn't even know it had been undone. He was far too concentrated on John's neck.

'Boys?'

Mrs. Hudson opened the door _just_ as John had done up his last button. Sherlock thought it was staring Mrs Hudson in the face what had just been happening, but he thanked god that only a few people had been gifted with deduction skills.

'Ah, there you are. I was just bringing you your shopping. I've got more milk and tea-'

'Yeah, thank you Mrs Hudson' John cut her off.

Sherlock could tell he was trying his hardest to portray a grateful expression. Mrs Hudson put the shopping bags on the table.

'What have you done to my table? Sherlock?'

'Oh, it's his experiment gone wrong' John gave Sherlock a glare which meant he still wasn't to pleased about that _unfortunate_ mishap. 'He'll clean it in the morning'

'Oh John we can't we've got to go to Scotland Yard-'

'I'll do it then in the morning, I've got a free day tomorrow' Mrs Hudson interjected.

'Oh thank you Mrs Hudson, you are the best person alive'

'Yes it's alright John. I'll do it only this once, remember, I'm not your housekeeper. See you boys! Make sure you're _both_ well fed before you go to bed'

Mrs Hudson left briskly. There was a tense silence before John started to unload the shopping items and put them in their proper places. Obviously the moment has passed. Sherlock made his way to his room to avoid anymore awkwardness in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK

* * *

In the morning, both John and Sherlock woke up with the intent to forget whatever had _happened _during the previous night; and that's exactly what they did. A couple of days past and it was like nothing had ever happened between them. They were still the best of friends (suggestively more), even if either of them never said it. John put it down to exhaustion and hunger, and probably not thinking straight, whereas Sherlock didn't know what to but the blame on. He always thought straight. He'd never had to deal with emotions before in his life, aand he didn't really want to start now.

But then it happened for a second time.

It had been a very tense between them. Not in a bad way. They kept sharing meaningful glares and catching each other staring at them. And the touches. The touches were driving John crazy. Sherlock kept keeping his hand there for longer than necessary or swiping his hand across his face _claiming_ he had some dirt there or something.

They had just caught the killer, thanks to Sherlock, and were taking one of Sherlock's shortcuts home.

_'Cheaper and quicker than getting a cab'_

Last famous words. John and Sherlock were talking about everything, and making each other laugh, that they had managed to walk aimlessly around London for the better part of an hour. Granted, time had gone scarily quickly, but still, John was tired and just wanted to get home. They were currently down a very narrow and long looking alley way.

'John, Baker Street is at the end of this alley way, we are nearly there'

'But you said that ages ago'

'John you sound like a whiny child' Sherlock said with a hint of a smile.

'Yeah well at least I don't act like a child. Going to the Buckingham Palace in just a bed sheet, I mean-'

Both were cut off with their own laughter, and John almost tripped over. Sherlock grabbed John's jacket to prevent him from falling on the ground. They were still laughing hysterically at the memory, causing them both to lean against the wall. They faced opposite each other, but they were still very close, given how narrow the alley way was.

Once their breathing had evened out, they both seemed to realize how close they actually were. Sherlock leaned forward a little, inviting John to kiss him. And he accepted the invitation. He lifted his hand and placed it on Sherlock's shoulder, and the other on his neck. He pulled him towards his side of the alley way, and Sherlock's only option was to place his hands on John's waist.

The kisses built up this time. Sherlock placed his lips on John's and gently sucked on John's plump bottom lip. The progress of the kiss was slow, it slowly got deeper and more thorough. John was the first to swipe his tongue across Sherlock's mouth. The kiss got dirtier when Sherlock started to grind against John's hips, arousing them both. John's hands moved down, undoing buttons on the way down. When he had undone five buttons, his hands started to feel around Sherlock chest. It was going really well.

Then the phone rang.

_The phone rang._

They sprang apart, John rubbing his eyes and then running his fingers through his own hair, whilst Sherlock looked for his phone in his pockets, getting increasingly annoyed.

'Hello?!'

'Hi it's Lestrade'

'What is it now?!' Sherlock shouted down the phone.

'Calm down Sherlock, I've got another case'

'Well I've just solved one, god aren't your lot capable of doing anything?!'

'Oh, well, I thought you'd be jumping at the chance? Oh well I'll just-'

'No, no' Sherlock said worn out and defeated. 'Wheres the crime scene?'

Lestrade gave him the address.

'We'll be there right away' And he put down the phone.

Sherlock cleared his throat.

'Erm-er Lestrade has got another case -uhm- for us'

John looked up at Sherlock.

'Ok yeah, erm' He then gestured at Sherlocks chest and looked away quickly, blushing.

Sherlock looked down to find his shirt undone. Wow, John doesn't waste anytime.

They started walking out the alley way whilst they both sorted out their appearances. When they got out the alley way, they actually were at Bakers Street.

'You were actually right?' John asked sounding surprised.

'Oh I'm always right'

'Er no, as I re-call I remember you were wrong about the sugar'

They both shared a glance and started laughing again. They called a cab and were off again, trying to catch another killer.

I guess they just weren't going to talk about _it_.


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK

* * *

It was a normal day in 221B Baker Street. Well, as normal as it's ever going to be. John was_ trying_ to read the newspaper, and Sherlock, well, Sherlock was running around the place, knocking everything over, shouting over and over again that he was _bored._

John knew that boredom was different with Sherlock, it drove him insane. John was trying to subtly text Lestrade to beg him to give him a case. He'd sent a text to him and was waiting as patiently as he could for the reply.

'John, I'm bored'

'Yes I know you've been telling me for the last hour, I'm trying to think of something you could do-'

He cut himself off when he thought of what happened a couple of days back, and a couple of days before, the... _kisses_.

He got a plan. He was going to hold his face, and if he didn't retaliate, he could just say there was dirt or something on his face. Perfect. He put his newspaper down and stood up in the middle of the living room.

'Sherlock?'

He got a muffled _what_ as an answer.

'Come here?' John made it sound like a question rather than a statement.

Sherlock looked over his shoulder and gave him that _deducting_ look. He got up and walked over the table, and held the back of John's neck with one of his hands. He then started to nuzzle John's neck, making it ever so difficult for John to keep back a moan. Sherlocks lips brushed against his skin, then he placed a kiss on his neck. Working his way up slowly. By the time he'd gotten up to the jaw, John was clutching onto Sherlocks curly hair. John couldn't believe that Sherlock could turn him into a quivering mess just by kissing his neck a couple of times. But then he kissed him on the lips.

It was just a small and innocent kiss, and then he pulled back, and he was searching John's face for... _something_. He doesn't know what. But John didn't want to stop. So he kissed Sherlock. He grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a deep and longing kiss. Sherlock kissed back straight away. He was pawing at John's trousers.

_Maybe this will finally get past the kissing stage._

They were both stumbling around, kissing each other exceedingly. Neither wanted to stop. The kisses gradually got faster and needier. John was pushed onto the desk, where they lost contact for a second, but re found it, with the same eagerness.

'**_John_**!'

There was a bang of the door, and thundering footsteps up the stairs.

Both pulled away, but still held onto each other. Sherlock looked at John. There was no way on earth he could get him looking presentable before they got up here. He pulled John of the desk and shoved him into his room, down the landing. Sherlock buttoned up his shirt buttons (seriously, how is John doing this without him noticing?) and sat down on the sofa, looking as casual as he possibly could. He didn't know why he even tried. Whoever it was probably had the deduction skills as that of a snail.

'Sherlock?'

'Yes?' Sherlock replied, acting as detached as he could.

Sarah. It was Sarah. Just the person he needed to be here right now. He thought of John in the other room. He felt this over whelming sensation in the pit of his stomach. It felt like... jealously. But he didn't understand. Why was he jealous? Uh? It must be some food he's eaten. He might have contaminated some food with those moldy ears the other day. Best not not tell John about that.

'Is John around?' She asked.

'No'

'Oh. Well, could you tell him we don't need him in the surgery next Wednesday. Bit of a mix up with the shifts'

Sherlock grunted. Did this woman actually ever say anything of use?

'Ok, I'll just be, er, going now'

She turned, ready to descend that seventeen flight of stairs that led up to 221B Baker Street, but she stopped, and turned.

'One more thing, erm, just, don't mess him around- I mean- don't take him for granted-ed, or break his heart. He's a good man and he deserves a lot more than me'

Sherlock couldn't help the flicker of confusion that ran across his face. What? Break his heart? This woman has absolutely no idea what comes out of her mouth does she?

Before he could respond to her, he was already gone. John then came out of his room, looking a lot more presentable.

'What was that about and who was it?'

'Sarah'

'Oh what did she want?'

'Oh you don't have a shift next Wednesday for some reason'

'Oh right'

John was left to figure out why Sherlock had just become devoid of emotion in literally ten seconds. A heavy silence hung over them for a moment. But then he remembered he'd gotten a text whilst he was, rearranging his shirt...

_'Cold case, needs solving fast, come to Scotland Yard ASAP. Lestrade.'_

'Sherlock' He threw him the phone.

He read the text and they were on their way, once again.


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK

_Thanks for the reviews, if you'd like, you could drop off your ideas in them, situations in which they could kiss? Keep reviewing please :)_

* * *

It was a week before the next incident. They hadn't even hinted at speaking about what had happened... three times. If anything, Sherlock had become more flirty. This time John realized. Sherlock had just solved a case, and Anderson wasn't to pleased for some reason or other. To shut him up, Sherlock had just deduced Anderson, revealing not only he was cheating on his wife with Donovan, (but we all knew that), and that he was sleeping with another woman as well. Someone who worked on the force. Sherlock had just told the whole crew, and walked away leaving everyone, including Anderson, flabbergasted. John followed Sherlock, and turning the corner, out of the large alley way, they both burst into giggles at the same time.

'Did you see his face?!' John got out in between the laughter.

Sherlock just kept laughing. They were close to 221B Baker Street, it was only a two minute walk, if you cut through the park. They turned and walked to the park, not rushing, just strolling through. Sherlock looked up at the stars, and John followed suit. They came to a gradual halt, looking at the particularly bright stars in the sky. Sherlock then intertwined his fingers with John's. Sherlock slipped his other hand in to his pocket, and silenced his phone. There was no way he wanted interruptions this time.

John was a little bit shocked at the contact, and flinched a little, before tightening his grip on Sherlock's hand. Neither looked at each other yet, but John stopped looking at the sky, and looked downwards, at their hands. Sherlock let his eyes fall to meet John's.

The park was empty. Time seemed to stop, and the temperature had dropped in the last couple of minutes. They could both see their breaths, mixing in the air. John lifted his other hand and placed it on Sherlocks chest; Sherlock placed his free hand on the small of John's back, pulling him close so his body fitted perfectly against his own.

It was Sherlock who kissed John. He noted the strange sensation that erupted in his chest as his lips moved over John's. John felt similar. They had both become accustomed to each others lips. Sherlock hoped that they wouldn't be interrupted this time. Sherlock moved his hand down and cupped John's bum. John's hands were moving slowly down his front. The kiss was familiar, and safe. Sherlock could tell John was holding back a little. Thinking too much. For the first time in his life, Sherlock wanting someone to _stop thinking_. Sherlock became more confident, and John opened up a little more.

But then.

'So this is why you're not answering your phone'

_Mycroft._

Sherlock pulled back, fast. It was like an electric shock. They both looked at Mycroft. He had a carefully constructed neutral look on his face, but Sherlock could tell that he was amused. John could see the black car the background. They both noticed that they were still holding on to each other, in that intimate position. They both stumbled backwards.

'What do you _want_ with me Mycroft?'

'Oh, I don't want you, I need John. Come along John' Mycroft gestured with his umbrella.

Sherlock's instinct was the drag John along with him. But he didn't want to be seen portraying emotions by Mycroft. So John gave him a look and followed Mycroft.

Once in the car, there was an awkward silence whilst Mycroft was doing something with his phone. The car started and then Mycroft spoke.

'So what's going on with my brother and you? We caught you that time in the alley way that time, on the cameras, I'm surprised Sherlock didn't think of that; he must've been _very_ distracted. So are you in a relationship or somethi-'

'No no no, it just..._ happens_'

'Do you have feelings for him?'

That made John think. Did he? When he really thought about it, he knew that he couldn't live without Sherlock. He completed him. He loved Sherlock.

Wait, rewind. Where did that come from? Did he love Sherlock? The idea scared him but made him feel comforted and safe.

Oh god no. He was in love with Sherlock.

'Erm, no, I don't'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes positive. It's just a, physical- ahem - thing. Nothing to worry about'

'Physical?' Mycroft needed more convincing.

'Yes'

'With my brother?' He said sarcastically.

The car stopped outside 221B Baker Street.

'Yes, now I know you care for him, but for crying out loud stay out of his personal life!'

John stormed out of the car and ran up into the flat. Sherlock wasn't back yet, and he was glad to have some time alone, to try and accept what he had just realized.

It has all just gotten incredibly complicated.


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK

**I know it's meant to be only five times but there's two kisses in this chapter, sorry :***

* * *

Sherlock got back around ten minutes later, obviously he had gone somewhere else. He should have been back before John. John was in his room, sitting on his bed, thinking about his... realization. He just had to act like he did before. Or had Sherlock already noticed? No, he couldn't of. Did Sherlock like him to? I mean, he had been kissing him back as well. Maybe it was an experiment. John's heart plummeted when he thought that could be the case. He didn't want it to be an experiment, but that was the most likely conclusion. John decided to let the experiment run it's course. He didn't want to bring up the incidents, it would be too awkward.

Sherlock had gone to the Chinese Takeaway, and gotten a selection of things.

'John, I've got tea!'

John inwardly groaned, not really wanting to face him, but it would look suspicious if he didn't go down. He went down into the kitchen. He found Sherlock plating up (with his top three buttons still undone, oops), obviously piling food onto John's. Wait a second. That was the only plate.

'Sherlock! You need to eat!'

'I'm not that hungry'

'I don't care, you are eating right now'

'John. You can't make me'

John got a plate out of the cupboard, carefully, making sure the toes didn't fall out as well. He piled some food on the plate, then turned to find Sherlock had gone to sit on the sofa. John placed the plate on Sherlock's knees.

'No John I don't want any'

'Sherlock you need to eat' John protested.

Sherlock stood up and tried to give John back the plate. They stood there arguing to a minute trying to give the other a plate full of food. Food was spilling every where.

'Sherlock, you don't look after yourself! When's the last time you had a proper meal!'

'I'm not hungry, and I'm not a child'

'Is that right?!'

'Yeah it is!'

At that moment, they both dropped the plate, but neither looked down to look at the mess they had made. They kept steady eye contact, for what could have been hours.

'Will you just-'

He was broken off finished that sentence, as Sherlocks lips descended on to his. John kissed back for a while, but he was to over come with emotions, he pulled away. Still holding on to each other, they pulled back, but still kept close.

'Sherlock' John whispered, his voice breaking a little at the end.

'Shhh' Sherlock tried to quieten him.

He moved downwards and started to nibble on John's neck, and John failed at stopping a moan. He wanted Sherlock so bad, but he couldn't let himself go, knowing it was probably just an experiment.

'John' Sherlock mumbled in between kisses.

John almost melted right there and then. He worked his way up to just the side of John's mouth. They were just about kiss fully again, but then it happened.

It was all Sherlock's fault.

It was his bloody experiment.

_The microwave exploded._

Sherlock turned John around from the loud noise, although thankfully they weren't hit by anything from the small blast. Mrs Hudson came running up the stairs.

'Boys?! What have you done now?'

She came in whilst Sherlock was assessing the damage. John just stood there in total shock, unable to move or do anything. Mrs Hudson gasped at John.

'Oh dear, you're as pale as a ghost. Sit down honey, I'll make you some tea'

She took John to the sofa, and he sat down, watching Sherlock manically tidy up the kitchen. The kitchen wasn't as damaged as he'd thought it'd be. Broken glass scattered the kitchen, and some sort of goo covered the area around the kitchen. Mrs Hudson was fussing around, shouting at Sherlock, and John thought it would be best if he just went to be. All the energy he had seemed to have slipped out of him. He stood up and stumbled up stairs and into his bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell into a fitful sleep.

...

The morning came to soon for John. He woke up tired, but couldn't get back to sleep. He decided that he needed to talk to Sherlock about..._ this_, as soon as possible, to try and save as much as possible of their already ruined friendship.

He went downstairs, finding the kitchen clean and tidy, with a brand new microwave. On the table lay a little note.

**_'Sorry about last night, text me when you wake up, I'm at Bart's, come meet me - SH'_**

John couldn't help the little smile that escaped onto his lips.

The microwave must have been a way of saying sorry. And it was the best sorry you're gonna get off Sherlock Holmes.

He took his time, getting ready, and having breakfast, then caught a cab to Bart's. He was walking to Sherlock's usual lab, when he bumped into Molly. Quite literally.

'Oh, Molly, I didn't see you there'

'Oh it's ok, thank god you're here'

John raised an eyebrow.

'What do you mean?'

'Oh, Sherlock's been in a bad mood. Keeps looking at his phone and at the door. I think he's waiting for you to come so he has someone to show off to' Molly said with a wink.

They said a brief bye, and John went into the lab. He found Sherlock hunched over a microscope, but looking at his phone.

'Hey' John said, sounding as carefree as possible.

'Oh!' Sherlock looked surprised. 'You didn't text me?'

'Oh, sorry, I forgot after I had a shower'

A small silence followed before John began to speak again.

'Thank you... for the new microwave'

'It's ok'

Sherlock gave a small quirk of the lips before getting back to work.

...

The morning had gone pretty quickly, John helping Sherlock and Sherlock doing experiments. Molly often came into the room, sorting out files, or getting chemicals. John busied himself with reading articles about medical subjects on the internet, fetching things for Sherlock, or editing blog entries.

'John, can you get me my phone?' Sherlock, asked in a distracted tone of voice.

'Yeah, where is it?'

'My jacket'

John rolled his eyes, and got off his chair in a huff. He hated it when Sherlock was too lazy (he said he was too busy but John just knew he was manipulative) to get it himself.

He walked around the desk and reached into his jacket, to find the phone was not there. He raised his eyebrow at Sherlock, who had turned to face him. Sherlock stood up off his chair and raised an eyebrow too.

'Not that pocket, the back pocket in my trousers' He said in a seriously low and husky voice which went straight to John's groin.

Not one to step down from a challenge, John let a small smile grace his lips.

'Which side?'

'Left side' In that same husky voice.

John reached round into his pocket, bring their bodies close, and searched in the pocket, finding nothing there, he looked at Sherlock.

'I meant _my_ left side'

And he reached down, and captured John's lips in a heated kiss. Over the other kisses, they had found the perfect rhythm, making the transitions in the kiss smooth and fluid. Sherlock had his hands in John's hair, guiding him, angling his head to make the kiss as deep as possible.

They both heard the footsteps, coming down the hallways, and Sherlock could tell it was Molly's; carrying two cups of coffee. They had time before she entered the room, so this time, they pulled away slowly, holding on to each other for as long as possible. John was getting very annoyed with these interruptions. Every time they had been interrupted with the kisses.

Molly entered the room holding the expected cups of coffee, obviously surprised at how close they were to each other.

Sherlock whispered a thank you then sat back on the stool, seemingly been engulfed by his work straight away.

Molly handed John and Sherlock a cup each.

As it happens, it was a cup of tea.


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK

* * *

It had been two weeks since the Bart's incident. Neither had spoken about it and although they had had a few close calls (almost kisses) but nothing had happened between them. But then they were on a case. The killer had just gotten away by the skin of their teeth, and Sherlock and John were chasing him down alley ways and roof tops. The police were chasing him as well, but they were taking longer, given they didn't have Sherlock's thorough knowledge of the streets and walkways.

Sherlock started to chase the killer up metal stairs stuck to the side of the building.

'John! Go round, we'll trap the killer there!'

John followed the alley way through, turning the corner sharply.

Just in time to see Sherlock and the killer fall from a two level building, onto some metal bins. It was all a blur. John stopped running, giving his brain time to let what just happened sink in. Police started to surround the place where they had just landed. It was like the scene out of a movie. John stumbled forward, trying to get a look at the bodies.

_He can't be dead._

_He just can't._

He couldn't see past all the officers in uniform, getting in his line of sight. He tried to go towards Sherlock. An arm stopped him. Lestrade. He had a sad look on his face. A body was being lifted off the ground by their arms.

'No! Sherlock! No!' John shouted.

Another body tried to hold him, but he shoved them away.

'No! God no, Sherlock?!' John collapsed to the ground, defeated.

He couldn't, he _wouldn't_ believe it.

He started to cry when someone crouched down next to him.

'Didn't know you'd be so affected by my untimely death'

John lifted his head and punched Sherlock in the face. Sherlock stumbled backwards, then stood up fully. John stood up and wiped the tears from his eyes. He looked at Sherlock. He stood there with a bruised cheek (John's doing) and a couple of cut's on his hands and face.

'Honestly John, all I did was land on the killer. He took all the injuries, which yes, caused his death, but what do they say? What goes around come around?'

John was to shocked to say anything for a while.

'Don't you- _ever_- do that- to. Me. Again. You hear me?'

Sherlock nodded obediently.

'I'm being serious Sherlock! If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will never forgive you!'

'You will'

'Excuse me?! Don't assume what I will or won't do!' John began to see red.

'You will, because you love me' Sherlock stated.

John's mouth opened to deny it, and ask where he came up with such nonsense, but he knew it was true. He closed his mouth and opened it again, but no words came out. But then Sherlock spoke again.

'But that's ok John. Because I love you too' And all the red in John's vision flooded away.

What happened next, John won't exactly remember, but he does know that it was him who kissed Sherlock. They were holding on to each other tightly, kissing the life out of each other. John could of sworn he heard Lestrade mumble _'finally'_ but he ignored him. He was too busy kissing Sherlock. Sherlock put his arms around John, and John was pulling Sherlock's coats cuffs. It was a slow, loving kiss, something both of them will never forget. They both pulled back, breathing heavily, but still clutching onto each other for dear life.

'Come on, let's go, I don't want to be interrupted this time'

John laughed.

'We've been interrupted six times, only that could happen to us' John said.

Sherlock smiled and held John's hand, leading him away from the crime scene and all the people staring. But they didn't notice the people, as they couldn't take their eyes off each other.

They called a cab and went back to 221B Baker Street. This time, they went further, showing each other the true extent of their love for each other.

This time, they weren't **_interrupted_**.


End file.
